


A Time to Mourn

by tmtcltb



Category: The Last Ship (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 17:58:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16877601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmtcltb/pseuds/tmtcltb
Summary: In the middle of a war, Kara takes a moment to grieve for a friend.





	A Time to Mourn

 

Kara stood before the large wooden desk she inherited from Admiral Slattery when she became captain of the Nathan James, fingers curling into the scared wood, staring at the faded picture that sat just to the right of her wedding photo. One of her and Carlton.

_From before._

Before the Arctic, before the Red Flu, before Danny, before Frankie, before the red rust, before they were Captain and XO,  _before everything_.

They were out at some bar, Shippers probably, playing darts. Carlton won, the only time she remembered that happening (and she had no doubt Burk would have reminded her if there was another occasion). She asked Carlton about it a few months ago, a question that earned her a scoff, followed by the accusation that her forgetfulness was a deliberate attempt to hide her defeat. And then he grinned, his lip curling up on one side. The same loopy grin that he wore in the photo.

That grin was the reason that she kept this picture here on her desk, next to photos of her husband and son and mother. Carlton looked so young - they both did, truthfully. Young and happy and optimistic for a future that had seemed incredibly bright. No idea what was waiting for them.

_Carlton was her last person from before._

Not the last person that she knew from before, of course. But prior to the Red Flu, Kara would never have imagined popping over to Mike Slattery's house for a cup of milk or going on a double date with Eric Miller. Not that those friendships were any less real than her friendships before, but they were forged in pain and loss and terror. Carlton was different.

Carlton had been in Kara's life for years before that last cruise to the Arctic. That defining moment when everything changed. And there was something comforting in knowing that he knew who she was back then, a feeling of shared past that bonded them even more tightly together.

_He remembered the clueless Kansas girl who had never been on a boat bigger than a sailboat, determined to make something of herself._

_She knew the pressure his family put on him to marry, to have children, to continue the family line._

_He had met the old Debbie. The one who was never sober._

_She knew all about his past with Cameron. The strain that caused the two of them to all but cease talking in the months leading up to the Red Flu._

Kara sucked in a breath, one hand moving to her mouth to muffle a sob.  _Cameron._

She would have to tell him about Carlton. She could practically hear the conversation. A man she had spoken to a thousand times before, Cameron would no doubt answer the phone with the familiar "hey baby girl" greeting that he picked up from his brother. He would imagine that she called with an assignment, or maybe to socialize, only to be met with the news that his last remaining family was gone. But she couldn't let anybody else make the call. No, it had to be her, not some random uniform selected by a bureaucrat. She owed Cameron that much.

_She owed Carlton._

Carlton was the last survivor from her old circle of friends. Tara, Kara's bunkmate before Alisha, who was reassigned six months prior. Dusty, Carlton's idiotic roommate at the Academy, who followed him around like a puppy. Michael Harold Potter, an Academy classmate, who everyone affectionately referred to as Harry despite his utter hatred of all things Harry Potter.

Ninety-nine percent of the people she and Carlton knew from the Academy died in the first three months of the Red Flu, the few survivors going down with the Shackleton and Hayward, thanks to Peng. The only ones left were her and Carlton. Kara began to shake as she realized what that meant.

_Out of a class of nine-hundred seventy-six, she was the only one left._

Kara's hand pressed against her mouth, the other arm wrapping around her waist as she fought against the sobs. She was the captain. The one everyone looked to. She had to stay strong. She had to lead. Later there would mourn the loss of her XO and, more importantly, the loss of her friend.  _Now wasn't the time._

The knock on her door startled Kara, and she jerked upright, forcing her breathing to slow. When no footsteps echoed down the pathway, she knew someone was waiting.  _Damn it_. She had just lost her XO,  _her friend_ , was one minute alone too much to ask? Taking a deep breath, hoping to hell that her eyes weren't as red and swollen as they felt, Kara swung the door open to reveal Danny leaning against the opposite bulkhead, legs crossed, silently waiting. His eyes met hers and, without thinking, she gestured him inside. Closing the door behind him she turned, only to be enveloped by his arms.

Kara stood stiffly, unwilling to cross the line, to give in to the grief. "I'm fine."

"I'm not." His words were muffled in her hair, and she knew that he was crying. "I finished packing up Burk's gear."

_Just like that afternoon so many years ago when he packed up Benz's locker._

The tears that Kara was holding at bay overflowed, and she melted into Danny's chest, arms wrapping around him tightly. A minute passed, or maybe an hour, as they clung to each other, his sobs muffled by her hair while she drenched his shirt. How many times had they done this? Frankie, Berchem, Smith, Ravit, Mason, Cruz, Tex, Rios, Andrea, Alisha... the list went on and on.

_The fact that Kara couldn't answer her own question was answer enough._

"A spear gun," she choked when the tears finally slowed. "A frigging spear gun."

"A frigging kid with a spear gun," Danny added, his head lifting. "A kid who I killed."

Kara pulled back, hands rising to frame Danny's face. " _No_. You killed the person who killed your brother. You killed the person who would've taken you out. It was him or you, Danny.  _Don't make it more than that_."

He stared, his eyes boring into her, and Kara felt her stomach sink. The same conversation, the same argument.  _He had never listened to her before, why would this time be any different?_

Then, slowly, Danny nodded. "Carlton kept telling me that one of these days he was going to get sick of listening to me whine and kick my ass for being such a dumb-ass to you and Frankie."

"Really?" Kara asked, surprised. As far as she knew, Carlton remained completely neutral when it came to her issues with Danny. It was a position that Kara respected, understanding how important Danny and Carlton's friendship was to both men, and so she told Carlton little about the problems in her personal life. Of course, there was no guarantee that Danny had done the same. Warily, she added, "I didn't know that you two talked about me."

Danny shook his head. "We didn't. Said you were like his sister. The last thing he wanted to hear were details."

Kara snorted. "So when..."

"He lived down the street. Guess it wasn't too hard to check for my bike when he drove by. Back when Frankie was born, Burk told me that he would keep an eye on you and Frankie if anything happened to me. Those weren't just words to him."

_Carlton looking out for her without saying a word. The brother she never had._

But that wasn't true, was it? In every way that mattered, Carlton was her brother.

Fresh tears streamed down her face. "That sounds like Carlton."

"He would track me down at the gym or the bar. Drag me back to his place. Call me an idiot for throwing away the best part of my life. Said I was wallowing in self-pity." Danny shook his head. "He was right. It was like Gitmo all over again. I wasn't dealing. Instead I was running away, acting like I could leave my problems behind. Trouble was that my problems followed me, and the only things I lost were the ones that mattered. You. Frankie. Our life in a damn suburb in Florida bickering over who was going to make dinner."

"Danny..." Kara paused, struggling for the right words, the ones that wouldn't turn this into a fight.

"The guys were always protecting me, always volunteering for the worst assignments so I couldn't, doing everything possible to keep me safe because of Frankie. But it backfired. Every time I saw someone take a hit meant for me, I felt the need to prove myself more. Prove that I was helping them, not hindering them. Prove that I was still a damn good operator. Burk was the only one who got it. The only one who didn't treat me differently."

Kara nodded, her throat tight. "I remember the day Admiral Slattery told me that Carlton would be my XO. He said the two of us made a perfect team. I was the hard ass and Carlton was the motivational speaker."

Danny bit down on his lip. "Slattery was right. If there was one thing Burk knew, it was people. A smooth operator. He always knew just what to say."

A minute of silence passed, and then another, reality intruding as Kara remembered where they were -  _who_  they were. She drew back, turning slightly, not wanting to see Danny's face as she spoke.

"What you said earlier," she paused, swallowed, "about coming home. If you need more time ... I understand."

She barely felt Danny move, and then she was back in his arms, his hand tipping her chin up so their eyes met. "I meant what I said, Kara. I don't need more time. I don't  _want_  more time. Because if anything, losing Burk reminded me that tomorrow might not be there. I'm not saying it will be easy. Turning it off is ... hard. I know that, and I can't promise that I won't hurt you again. But I can promise you that I'm done running from my problems."

Kara starred at Danny.  _Her husband. Her friend. The father of her child. The only person she ever imagined spending the rest of her life with._ The same chiseled jaw, the same golden hair, and the same twinkling eyes as the man she met six years ago on the Nathan James.  _A lifetime ago_. So he wasn't perfect, their life together wasn't perfect - certainly not the happily ever after of a fairy-tale - but did any of that matter? What had Danny done that was so terrible? He wasn't an alcoholic, like her mother. He wasn't a traitor, like Kelsi. He was a bit of an absentee father, but hadn't Tex proven that a man could change? And at the end of the day, Danny wanted to try.

_Wasn't that all that mattered?_

Taking her silence as rejection, Danny's arms dropped, taking a step back, but his gaze didn't waiver. "You said earlier that we would talk once I got back. I'm going to hold you to that, Kara."

His hand was on the door handle when she spoke, her voice cracking. "Danny, wait!"

He turned, and the last of her resistance crumbled at the look in his eyes.  _The hope_. Maybe Danny just wasn't cut out for civilian life. Maybe they would be right back here in six months. But, damn it, she wasn't ready to give up. Kara reached out, grasping his hand, twisting her fingers through his.

"Unless you have somewhere to be, I wouldn't mind a few hours of company."

Danny turned, but not before Kara heard the click of the latch. He grinned. A heart stopping, lighthearted, Danny-from-the-old-days full-fledged grin.

"Aye, aye, Captain."

 


End file.
